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It has been said that moving is one of those things that causes major stress. Divorce, the death of a loved one, moving – oh yes, and unemployment. THE major stressors, according to people who make lists and conduct studies and like to categorize something as nebulous as stress.

I’ve moved house a few times: Edmonton to Banff, Banff to Vancouver, Vancouver to Edmonton, Edmonton to Calgary and back again, a few different locations in Edmonton, then off to Montreal (two different places in Montreal), Montreal to Vancouver…. I like to think I know a thing or two about packing prized objects and breakable things, and I’ve developed some very handy time management and negotiating skills along the way.

But planning ahead around moving time with regards to meals has been a black hole. My most recent move was within Vancouver, at the end of July, and we used a local moving company, as my fella and I have reached a stage in our lives where rounding up our friends and promising beer and pizza in exchange for heavy lifting is no longer an option. Hiring professionals is well worth the cash when it comes to certain things, and moving is one of those things.

Experts say to do the kitchen packing last, and for good reason – if your pots and pans and dishes and utensils are in boxes, how do you eat? And, if it’s a relatively short move, you also need to pack up whatever is left in your fridge, but you don’t really want to have a full fridge, so….. meal planning gets a little dicey around moving time. Not to mention coordinating with a cleaning schedule: I don’t want to clean the stove and the fridge and then have to deal with cleaning them again due to some sort of foolhardy food mishap.

I decided to treat the fridge like an art object – complete with curatorial photographs. A few days before moving, I removed all things moldy and rotting, and set aside a box where perishables could be transported to their new home.

Before cleaning:

After cleaning:

The pristine condition of our now organized and somewhat attractive refrigerator proved to be intimidating; we didn’t really eat too much out of it before moving. We became reliant on fast food, sadly. If I had done a better job at not letting all that moving “stress” get to me, perhaps we would have been eating things more like this:

instead of what we ended up eating (and regretting), due to not being 100% sure of where the grocery store is, but all-too-aware of those damn golden arches.

And in case you’re wondering about our nutritional priorities, this was the very first object that was unpacked – not just the first kitchen thing, but THE FIRST THING: